The Cradle Conspiracy. Christy Barritt

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The Cradle Conspiracy - Christy Barritt The Baby Protectors

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      Devin glanced over from the officers he was speaking with into the Wilsons’ house, which had become an unofficial meeting place. The kind couple had said it was okay, and it was better than everyone—mostly Sienna and Colby—being outside in the unusually chilly June evening.

      A CSI team was inside Sienna’s place, collecting evidence. Another team talked to neighbors, while yet another officer ran the plates on the car that had driven off.

      Devin had already given his statement, but officers were giving Sienna a few minutes to recover before telling her side of the story. The Wilsons had made themselves scarce, fixing coffee for everyone in the kitchen and staying out of the police’s way.

      His heart caught when he saw Sienna cradling Colby. The boy had fallen asleep in her arms, and she looked down at him with such a look of love in her gaze. The moment reminded him of Grace and Willow, and sadness gripped him so furiously that his chest ached.

      It still seemed impossible that the two were gone.

      He pushed those thoughts aside. This wasn’t the time to explore his grief.

      Instead, he glanced at Sienna and the baby again. What was the story between these two? He was more curious than ever.

      He’d have to wait until later to find out.

      Sienna looked paler as Detective Jenson approached. Devin watched her a moment. Noted her slender figure. Her wheat-colored hair with subtle blond highlights. How her wavy locks brushed her shoulders, and how the few scattered freckles across her nose gave her a youthful appearance.

      The woman was easy on the eyes, for sure.

      And she was terrified right now.

      Devin made a split-second decision and went to sit on the couch beside her. Though Sienna held the baby, she looked so utterly alone. Something unknown to him seemed to drive him for answers.

      “You mind if I listen in?” he asked softly.

      Sienna’s eyes widened with surprise before she shook her head. “No, not at all. I...owe you.”

      “You don’t owe me anything. I’m just glad I got there when I did.” He looked at the detective for approval. “You okay with me staying?”

      “Yes, sir.” Detective Jenson’s gaze fell on Sienna as he pulled a ladder-back chair from the corner of the living room and placed it three feet in front of her. “Ma’am, could you talk me through what happened?”

      Devin listened as Sienna told him about hearing a sound. Checking on Colby. Going into her living room and seeing the window open. Making it to Colby before the man saw her.

      Thankfully, the woman was quick on her feet. Otherwise tonight could have ended a lot differently. This could have been a very different kind of crime scene. His stomach turned at the thought.

      “You have no idea who the man was?” Detective Jenson kept his voice professional but kind as he leaned toward Sienna.

      “No idea. Of course I couldn’t see his face—he wore a mask—but I didn’t recognize his voice, either. Or his eyes.” Sienna’s voice cracked as memories appeared to pummel her.

      “Tell me about your son.”

      Sienna looked down at Colby and smiled—but it was a sad, wistful smile. “Oh, he’s not mine. He’s a coworker’s.”

      Both men stared at her, waiting for her to explain.

      She let out a small sigh, one that belied the simplicity of her words.

      “A woman I work with—her name is Anita Gwinn—asked me if I could take care of Colby for a week. She had to go out of town to attend to her mother, who just had hip replacement surgery and needed round-the-clock care.”

      “Is this Anita Gwinn woman a coworker or a friend?” Devin asked, trying to get a better feel for the situation.

      Coworker sounded cold and impersonal. People usually didn’t trust acquaintances with their children. In Devin’s experience, at least.

      Sienna hesitated and glanced at Colby again. “Honestly, more of a coworker. I know that sounds terrible to say. But I don’t know Anita all that well. She only moved to the area a few months ago, and she said she didn’t have anyone else to ask.”

      “Where do you work?”

      “I teach kindergarten. Anita was a teaching assistant in the classroom next door, but she seemed to latch on to me for some reason.”

      “What was she like?”

      “She’s probably in her early thirties. She’s kind of frazzled, but she is a single mom, so I figured that was why. No mention of a boyfriend or the baby’s father. But she loves Colby. Had pictures on her desk and on her phone. Everywhere. She always said he was the one good thing in her life.”

      “Did anything seem off about her?”

      Sienna shrugged. “Anita was quirky. But some people are, right? I mean... I don’t know. I just want to give her the benefit of the doubt.”

      “We should probably call Ms. Gwinn,” Jenson said. “Would you mind giving me her number? I’d like to talk to her.”

      “Of course.” Sienna hesitated and shifted. “But here’s the thing—Anita was supposed to pick Colby up two days ago. She never showed up, and she hasn’t been answering her phone.”

      Devin’s heart rate kicked up a notch. Most likely, when combined with what had happened tonight, that wasn’t a coincidence.

      “Did you call the police?” Jenson asked.

      “No, I figured Anita would show up. Or that she lost track of time. Or... I don’t really know. I was at a loss as to what to do. I didn’t want a social worker to come and take Colby, though. I figured he was better off with me until his mom returned. Maybe, looking back, that wasn’t wise.” Sienna frowned as she glanced at the detective and then Devin, her gaze begging for understanding yet laced with regret.

      Jenson straightened, and Devin could tell he was skeptical about Sienna’s story. It did seem like a strange explanation, yet it could still be plausible. Police often investigated those closest to the case first. Nine times out of ten, it was someone familiar instead of a stranger.

      “We’ll need you to be available in case we have any more questions,” Jenson said.

      “Of course.” Sienna offered a tight nod, but her gaze showed her exhaustion.

      As the detective walked away, Devin turned toward Sienna. He knew this wasn’t any of his business. But he couldn’t stop himself from saying what needed to be said. All of his FBI training begged for his attention.

      “I realize this isn’t my place, but I don’t think you should stay at your house tonight,” he said. “It’s not safe.”

      “That could be true, but I’m not sure where else I can go.”

      The thought of them being in a hotel made Devin’s

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